


Saudade

by TheAwkwardEnthusiast



Series: Spare Parts [2]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Feelings, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Personal Revelations, Post-War, Regrets, The Transformers: More Than Meets the Eye (IDW), Therapy, but only slightly - Freeform, experimenting with writing form, relationship dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-25 07:23:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18256508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAwkwardEnthusiast/pseuds/TheAwkwardEnthusiast
Summary: (sf. Portugese) The feeling of longing for something or someone who you love and which is lost.Quantum duplicate Rewind laments about his relationship with his Chromedome and struggles to come to terms with the 'death' of the original and the tentative relationship they briefly shared.





	Saudade

_“All lovers live by longing and endure; summon a vision and declare it pure.”_

—Theodore Roethke

~~~

 **Log** [33.109.16.54] **  
**

**Session:** 55

 **Patient:** Rewind of Lower Petrohex

 **Psychologist:** Rung of the Pious Pools

 **Status:** Ongoing

 

** Transcript: **

 

 **Rung:**             How are you doing today, Rewind?

 

 **Rewind:**          I took the shuttle here. It was very noisy…

 

 **Rung:**             Shuttles in Iacon tend to be like that; it is the planetary capital after all and with the recent increment in hotspot activity, population has been increasing exponentially.

 

 **Rung:**             _[Smiles]_ But we’re not here to discuss Cybertron’s population boon, no matter how interesting it may be. We’re here to discuss you, Rewind.

 

 **Rewind:**          I thought you said this wasn’t going to turn into an interrogation.

 

 **Rung:**             This isn’t an interrogation. I’m not here to gouge out answers or to force you to talk about things you don’t want to; my purpose is simply to aid you during your process of healing and you have complete and utter control of how fast or slow we proceed with things.

 

 **Rewind:**          I was joking, Rung.

 

 **Rung:**             Ah, I see. _[chuckles]_ Jokes are good. It pleases me you’re comfortable enough to share them with me.

 

 **Rewind:**          _[Shifts in seat]_ Yeah, well, you’re the only who listens to them. But, regarding your question, I’ve been…better. Well, better than I was last time we talked.

 

 **Rung:**             _[nods]_ That’s good to hear. During our previous session, you mentioned that you were having violent memory influxes that were disturbing your recharging cycle. Your answer leads me to assume that the situation has been rectified?

 

 **Rewind:**          _[Glances away before resting gaze on hands folded in his lap]_ In a sense.

 

 **Rung:**             Would you mind elaborating?

 

 **Rewind:**          … _[clenches hands into fists]_

 

 **Rewind:**          I haven’t been recharging. But--! But I’ve been thinking…about him—them?—yeah, them. And I’ve been able to do so without any panic attacks or blackouts.

**Rung:**             And what have you thought about, Rewind?

**Rewind:**          _[Hesitates, then sighs heavily]_ He loved rust sticks, you know? I…I saw a vendor that sells his favorite kind, the ones with the silicon center and the silver base with those red yellow shavings…and I bought some today. They tasted terrible...too salty and the silicon was an imitation.

 

 **Rung:**             Why did you buy them?

 

 **Rewind:**          They reminded me of him. When I brought them home and set the box down on the counter of our living space…I allowed myself to imagine that he was here. That he wasn’t… _[sighs]_

 

 **Rung:**             It’s alright, Rewind. Take your time. Remember, it’s okay to take a moment and mourn.

 

 **Rewind:**          …

 

 **Rewind:**          He didn’t take time to mourn.

 

 **Rung:**             Come again?

 

 **Rewind:**          _[visibly begins to tremble; visor flashes]_ He didn’t take time to mourn when _he_ died. When Megatron and the others found me and took me back, he didn’t even question it. No “how” no “but” no “why”. He simply tried to act like nothing happened, as if he and I were the same, and all the bad memories and fissures in our Sparks were nothing more nightmares gone by. [presses palms of hands against chestplate] He tried to recharge next to me that day and I thought I wanted it, but I didn’t. Because when he wrapped his arm around my waist, I remembered how Kaon did the same thing…how his claws dug into my helm as he forced me to look and record…and then…Vos…I couldn’t handle it. I kicked him and I screamed and I yelled and he looked so _hurt_ —

 

 **Rung:**             _[extends hand, palm downward]_ Rewind. You need to relax.

 

 **Rewind:**          _[Shakes head]_ He didn’t understand. Because he didn’t see _him_ die. He pulled the trigger…but he never saw the light of his Spark fade into nonexistence. But I did. I saw the light leave his eyes, felt his Spark flicker and die out…heard the whine of his frame as he went into caustic system failure because the damage was _too much_ , the pain too _great_ — _[exvents raggedly and pauses, visor bright and servos clutching empty air]_

 

  _[5 breems later, patient manages to regain semblance of relaxation]_

 

 **Rung:**             _[tilts head to one side]_ Are you well enough to proceed? We may table the session if you’re feeling overwhelmed or uncomfortable. Rewind?

 

 **Rewind:**          _[shakes head]_ No, I—I—I’m good. I need to do this… _[Winces]_ I’m sorry.

 

 **Rung:**             No apologies are necessary, Rewind.

 

 **Rewind:**           _[pauses]_ Apologies. Yeah…we had plenty of those in the long run. Too many some would say…and yet not enough. [Glances away/avoids optical contact]

 

 **Rung:**             What do you mean by that?

 

 **Rewind:**          Nothing. I just…

 

 **Rung:**             ‘Not enough.’ You’ve mentioned in previous sessions that your Chromedome committed several mistakes throughout the duration of your relationship, many of which he never formally apologized for. Is it possible you’re projecting your Chromedome’s misdoings onto the original?

 

 **Rewind:**          …

 

 **Rung:**             Rewind?

 

 **Rewind:**          I was going to leave him.

 

 **Rung:**             Who?

 

 **Rewind:**          My Chromedome. I—the reason he and I weren’t together during the DJD attack…was because I was going to leave.

 

 **Rung:**             Leave how?

 

 **Rewind:**          We had a fight. I don’t even remember what it was about—probably something stupid—but I was looking through some data slugs I picked up from one of the terminals on this planet we docked at and I found something. It was a blurry image capture and a redacted caption and it was hard to make out but I knew. It was him. He’d been on the planet…and I’d somehow missed him.

 

 **Rung:**             Dominus Ambus?

 

 **Rewind:**          Yeah…but I was in a hallway and when the thought to go back crossed my mind, I thought about leaving…but then the DJD came and in the moment I felt so much fear. I cried out Chromedome’s name and Vos was there to hear me and then everything was just—

 

 **Rung:**             Just what…?

 

 **Rung:**             Rewind.

 

 **Rewind:**          You know, one of my greatest flaws…was never letting Chromedome tell me how much he loved me. He said it profusely in private; he’d say it first thing when I wandered in after a long day at work, wrapping me up in an embrace and telling me over and over until I told him to stop.

When we’d recharge, he’d say it in his sleep, whisper it every once in a cycle because he dreamed of me. He always dreamed of me, he said.

For a while, I was…hesitant. No-one loves somebody with such fervor; but with time, I began to realize that _he did_. We weren’t a perfect couple by any means, after all. We’d fight often, and most of the time I’d end up recharging in a friend’s spare berth out of sheer necessity to get away from him. But the next cycle he’d be up, angry and recharge-deprived, telling me that he couldn’t sleep without me beside him.

 _I know you hate me right now,_ he said. _But I know that I love you more._ Then that was that. And we’d recharge together again, maybe not completely reconciled but with an understanding that we mattered to each other and that this conflict was merely a moment we’d have to get past. I used to believe it was a silent understanding and I went with it.

We’d talk if it was something serious; like that one time I joined a mission last minute because they needed someone to keep a record of the event and all I gave him was a small data burst letting him know what I’d done. It was supposed to be a simple hit and run but it got ugly and we were stuck for two weeks behind enemy lines without communications and dwindling resources.

You can imagine what kind of wreck he was when he got the news that only two survivors had made it back to the base later on. He had been distraught and when he barged into the medical bay and saw it was me, he fell to his knees and sobbed. I stayed in the med bay for days after that, too afraid to go out and confront him. I knew I’d been wrong to go without telling him in person but…we were at war. And duty came before everything else.

I remember that our conversation was heated during that particular disarray; we broke some things in our compartment and I said things I probably shouldn’t have. But then he’d look at me with that look again and I couldn’t stay mad…I could only feel fear.

Because here I was shouting, smashing and breaking what precious things we had and he was smiling. And I knew right then and there that it was his way of coping; he’d sit among the wreckage and vent sighs of relief because it meant I was still there. Still functioning…still alive.

That coincided with a love that was palatable.

Transcendent.

_Real.  
_

One day he asked me something I never had the chance to answer, at least not as completely as I should have.

_“Why do you stick around with me?”_

It was an honest question, in retrospect. Why did we stick around when it interfered with our focus on the war, when it added more to the burden on our shoulders every time obligations forced me into danger and his addiction to rear its ugly head? 

 

 **Rung:**             What did you tell him?

 

 **Rewind:**          I…I told him it was because I loved him. It was simple, easy…sincere. But it wasn’t entirely honest. 

 

 **Rung:**             How so?

 

 **Rewind:**          Because I had also loved Dominus. I’d loved him so much that it made my knee bolts weak and my Spark race with the mere thought of him. But I left him; it was a life and death decision, of course, but in that moment when all rationale abandoned me and I was only left with my instincts…I severed his lifeline. We were so close to being reunited and then we weren’t…and I didn’t fight the separation.

But I didn’t leave Chromedome.

I stayed with him even when I felt the bond was a burden. During those sparse moments when I woke up and stared at him, feeling a tiny bit of regret that it wasn’t warm blue optics staring back at me. When he lied and delved back into his old habits and smiled in my face and told me everything was fine, I played along. When he fell to his knees and plead for forgiveness, I forgave him even when my Spark told me enough was enough and my mind told me I should leave.

Because when I looked in a mirror and saw the healthy flicker of my EM fields, saw that my optics were a little brighter...I knew.  I realized that bots approached me much easier, smiling and laughing. And I’d been able to smile back.

And I knew…it was all because of him.

I stuck around with him because I liked me better when I was with him. Because he made me better. Before him, I was alone, wallowing in my grief and despair in the wake of Dominus' absence. He made me realize that despite the war, there’s still a life to be lead. War and conflict don’t need to define us or dictate who we are, what we do, or whom we chose to love.

I never let him tell me that he loved me as often he would’ve liked because I believed that it wouldn’t hurt as much when we were separated. Whether by our own beliefs or by the war...or even by Dominus, I wanted to be prepared. But all I felt after his death wasn’t pain…it was regret.

And the regret is heavier on my Spark than his absence can ever be. 

 

 **Rung:**             Why?

 

 **Rewind:**          Well, it’s simple.

When you know you’ve done enough, not everything you could do, but _enough_ to showcase to your significant other that you love them…you can at least wallow in that comfort.

_“He knew I loved him. My last words were beautiful. We lived a good life.”_

I didn’t do any of those things.

I told him I wouldn’t ever forgive him. I was offline when he passed on. We fought more often than we ever loved.

 

 **Rung:**             Are you talking about your Chromedome…or the original?

 

 **Rewind:**          I used to think there was a difference. But…now that I think about it, there really isn’t.

 ____

Rung set down his datapad, pulling up his spectacles so he could look at the trembling datastick directly in the optics, his wide blue orbs serene and understanding.. Rewind's cobalt visor flashed briefly as their gazes met, a long heavy silence passing between them. It was ultimately Rewind who broke it, sighing heavily and glancing down to stare at his clasped hands resting in his lap.

Rung waited patiently for a moment before calmly asking, "If you’d had the opportunity to tell him something, one last thing, what would you have said?”

Rewind paused, the thin band of light flashing across his visor thinning slightly as he contemplated his answer. Then he glanced up, and there was something else, something warmer and brighter flickering in his EM field, optics brimming with emotion behind the glass band obscuring their view.

“I’d…tell him thank you,” he breathed.

Rung raised an optic ridge, “Anything else?”

Rewind thought about it and then he shook his helm. “We may not have had a perfect beginning...nor did we ever have the opportunity to work towards a perfect ending, but for all the ups and downs, I don’t regret a moment of it.” He paused. "I won't ever regret a moment of it." His voice was soft, almost a whisper and Rung smiled as he felt the uncomfortable heaviness in the air dissipate with each spoken word.

 _Finally_ , he thought internally.

Rewind was not whole and he never will be. But with each passing session the young minibot gathered each broken piece of the relationship he had built with Chromedome and slowly put it back into place inside himself. None of the pieces fit back where they belonged but Rewind had learned how to build a new mosaic of their time together, recreating something that was simpler and yet more powerful than before. Because that's what you did in love, after all. Some people leave you broken, unintentionally, even when they love you so much that they'd do absolutely anything to make you happy. Chromedome left Rewind in such a state when he'd died, his mnuemosurgery career catching up to him and disintegrating everything that made him _him_.

"What will you do now?" Rung asked.

The minibot swallowed roughly before replying, "What I should've done in the first place." His voice is tinged with sad determination. "I'm going to start over."

~~~

The receptionist at the desk glanced up at the sound of soft footsteps, blue optics gleaming tiredly as he faced the silver datastick standing in front of him. Recognition flashed in those blue pools and his EM field flickered with comfort and understanding.

"Back already?" He asked, remembering the previous visit that had ended with tears and spilled Energon. But that had been orns ago and the minibot looked different than he had before; the sadness still followed him but the despair was gone, replaced with something softer, much more kind.

Rewind nodded, fists clenched by his side. "Yeah." He stepped forward and placed a small dataslug on the smooth metal surface, ignoring the receptionist's surprise. "I've been...learning how to cope with all of this. My therapist's consent form is in there if you're worried about what happened last time. I'm better."

With a smile, the receptionist accepted the dataslug but he didn't immediately scan it's contents. Instead, he merely gestured towards the closed doors behind him. "He's been moved to Area 3."

"3?" Rewind asked, confused. A rare blossom of hope sprouted in his chest but he squashed it down, knowing that letting his feelings get the best of him wasn't going to do much good. He'd talked with Rung for the longest time, reflecting and understanding where he stood...he wasn't about to mess everything up now. The receptionist nodded once, saying noting.

Rewind uttered a swift thanks and headed towards the doors. From there, the scenery completely changed. The reception room was nothing more than bare silver walls and uncomfortable waiting chairs but once you bypassed the doors and entered the actual hospice facility, it was like stepping into another building.

The floor underneath glimmered a soft viridian, the walls and ceiling sporting a variety of ornaments from donated sculptures to artistic depictions of constellations. The air smelled slightly antiseptic but as you transversed the different living areas, you could smell the occasional Energon brew or whiff of freshly coated paint. Patients nodded at him, the occasional staff member greeted him and each time, Rewind's innards coiled in apprehension but he still kept pressing on through the winding hallways.

He halted outside the huge door labeling the designated area, breathing irregular and visor flickering slightly. He could hear the slight hum of activity from the other side of the door, soft voices muffled by the door separating him from them. None of those voices were familiar...because he never expected to be here.

The hospice was one of the few buildings created after the war, replacing all of the relinquishment clinics in a reconstructive effort to not only fix the physical damage the war created but the psychological injuries as well. Most of those within the walls were Decepticons and Autobots,most known to Rewind by affiliation, others by the files he has in his memory banks.

Another voice sounds behind the wall, deeper and softer than the previous and it's enough to make Rewind's insides warm and his struts melt. Servos shaking slightly, he pushes against the door and it opens up, revealing the dome shaped common room with several chairs and tables scattered about. Soft music is playing from speakers in the ceiling and several bots are in pairs and groups, some patients, others visitors and an air of quiet congeniality hovers over them all.

Another receptionist stands a few feet away from the door, glancing up and smiling when he catches sight of Rewind.

"Rewind?" She asks.

The minibot nods.

"Riot from the front desk told me to keep a look out for you." She replied, stepping around her desk to meet the datastick face to face. They shake hands and Rewind notices that she's wearing a golden visor, nearly identical to the one Chromedome used to have. It makes a sense of nostalgia wash over him but he bites his glossa and forces himself to look as presentable as possible. She places a servo on his shoulder and gestures towards the back of the room, voice softer than normal.

"He's in the back. Playing that wierd game only he seems to like."

"Hax," Rewind answers instinctively, attention going to where she directed. He easily caught on to those broad white shoulders, hunched over a holographic board that projected different colored planes with tiny red and blue pegs placed upon them. His Spark stutters, but instead of feeling fearful, he feels determined.

It feels like it takes forever for him to approach the table and a few seconds stretch into eternity as he stands there, waiting for him to simply _look up_.

When he does, it's slowly and methodically, as if he somehow understands that this bot is not a staff member or some random stranger demanding his attention. When their optics meet, there's a brief moment of pause where they do nothing but get lost in each other's gazes. Rewind remembers every moment that flashes between them without having to look at his databanks,and if asked, he'd recite his favorites to you without pause, remembering even the littlest of details like the taste of the Energon they were drinking or the color of sky above them.

"Chromedome," Rewind says and for the first time in a long time, there's no pain in his tone.

The former mnuemosurgeon stares at him, tilting his helm to one side inquisitively. "Who are you?" He asks softly, melodiously deep voice curious.

Rewind retracts his faceplates, allowing the larger mech to see his slightly scarred lips twisting into a soft smile.

"My name is Rewind," he replies. “You don’t remember me. But that’s okay. Because you may have forgotten me here…” He places two fingers over Chromedome’s forehelm, gentle and tentative. A golden visor brightens at the touch but it's obvious from the larger mech's posture that even he is unaware of the tiny tic. But Rewind notices and he stifles a laugh, the familiarity not at all lost on him.

“...But not from here.” He finishes and he's surprised with how strong his voice is.  
  
Chromedome glances down to see a tiny white servo placed over the dome of his chesplate, warm and nestled snuggly over his beating Spark. Any other time, unwarranted touches would have spurned the mech into a frenzy but this time, the physical contact didn't feel like an invasion. His Spark thrums beneath the white servo and he gazes up at the mech with piqued interest. Something nags at his mind and he can't quite a finger on it but it's in his nature to explore.

So after a brief pause, he nods minutely, accepting the gesture and all it entails.

"Alright," Chromedome says. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Rewind."

 


End file.
